The Strength of a Soldier: Male Reader x Pyrrha Nikos (Part I)

Chapter IV: Upgrade

Over the past few days, Ironwood had tasked his research and development team with designing and creating a prosthetic for (F/N). Contained among the documents that survived the war were the schematics for his previous prosthetic. During the time of the Great War (F/N) was equipped with a copper arm of crude design. The fingers were more claw-like than anything else, and several large spikes protruded from it at the shoulder and elbow. The knuckles were jagged, probably to give an extra edge to his strikes, and the worn piece of metal was dented in places where bullets and shrapnel had made contact. The General had given these documents to the scientists downstairs. Many of the brains lamented over its primitive design, comparing it to nothing more than a metal club. The head researcher, Dr. Catherine Eye, assured Ironwood that (F/N)'s new prosthetic would be the best that Atlas technology had to offer.

(F/N) in the meantime had been given a private room by the General. He isolated himself inside, hiding himself away from the rest of the airship. He didn't sleep, and he barely ate. Every time Ironwood or Winter checked in on him they found him sitting in a chair mere inches away from the boring white walls, just staring. When questioned about his behavior, (F/N) simply responded that sleeping gave him nightmares.

Winter Schnee was walking through the halls of the airship, passing by (F/N)'s room to make sure he was okay. Sure enough, he was seated facing the wall. About to walk off, Winter stopped when she heard her name being called from within the room.

"Lieutenant Schnee?" (F/N) calls.

Winter sighs and steps into the room. "What is it (L/N)?" She asks rather sharply. The past few days have done little to change her opinion of the young man.

"Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?"

"I despise talking about myself." She answers.

"Oh. I see."

"Is that all?" She asks, turning to leave.

"Yes." (F/N) replies without taking his eyes off the wall. "It's just, do you ever regret joining the military?"

Winter sighs. It appears they're going to talk about her anyways. "Of course not." She answers.

"No, I didn't think so." (F/N) says, finally turning in his seat to face her. "I don't know why I asked really. Maybe I'm just... I don't know. Do you really never get tired of it?"

Winter sighs and rests her back against the wall, crossing her arms and ankles. "Not everyone is cut out for this lifestyle." She says.

"Yeah, you don't need to tell me." (F/N) laughs. Looking up, he sees Winter glaring at him. "Oh." He says flatly. "You were talking about me."

Winter neither confirms nor denies his accusation, not that she needs to.

"You don't like me." (F/N) laughs shortly. "That's okay. I don't much like me either. But why? What makes you better than me?"

"Simply put, I find you as an insult to my profession." Winter replies. "You call yourself a soldier, but you have no regard for protocol or rank or the professionalism the job requires."

"Is that why you joined the military?" (F/N) asks. "For the order of it all? You don't need to answer, I can see it in your eyes. You're a perfectionist. You pride yourself on being the best, demand it of yourself. You enlisted to show people what it meant to be a soldier. But me? I enlisted so they'd never have to learn."

"And because of that you think you belong here?"

"No." (F/N) replies. "That's just it. I don't belong here. I mean, look at me."

"If you admit you don't belong here," Winter says slowly, "then why are you?"

"Because if it wasn't me, it'd have just been someone else. It's like I said, I joined so that other people wouldn't have to. So that my teenage brother wouldn't have to. So that my best friend's little sister wouldn't have to. They were far too young to be soldiers."